


Sword and Crown

by PreseaMoon



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreseaMoon/pseuds/PreseaMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judar knows what he wants in a king vessel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sword and Crown

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: song lyrics
> 
> in your eyes I see the eyes of somebody who could be strong  
> tell me if I'm wrong  
> and now I'm pulling your disguise up  
> are you free or are you tied up  
> Miike Snow, "Animal"
> 
> (I should have revised this more but I am burnt out orz)

Judar is frequently questioned on his preferences for king. He is asked all sorts of things: what draws his attention time and time again, what does he instinctually dislike, what traits does he like to encourage in the candidates he already has, things like that. They ask him over and over, in different tones, with different phrasing, as if expecting his answers to change from the slightest differences.

They act as if his say so as a magi is not good enough on its own.

But it is. 

The whole point of being a magi is that he can see these things. Gyokuen and those veiled old men who so rarely show their faces, what do they know? It’s not like they get to choose his king—or kings at all. But they are always giving him recommendations and trying to sway him one way or another, choosing candidates for him when he’s made his displeasure at them doing so more than clear.

They’ve even sent people into dungeons he’s raised without his permission. And then if whomever they’ve sent succeeds, they say that person is now one of his candidates, no matter how Judar protests and refuses to consider them. So he ignores their candidates the way they ignore him. 

In Kou and very far away from Kou, Judar has been lots of places and has met and seen many people and types of people. He can tell with just a short look if someone is king material or not. Most aren’t. He does not appreciate them acting like he can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense, either; the lessons they’ve shoved onto him for years always come to mind when he makes these decisions.

No matter what they say, his only true candidates for king are the Ren family and Sinbad. No one else is any good.

Gyokuen and those old men are constantly telling him that Sinbad is the perfect king, the perfect vessel, the perfect choice. Everyone is second-rate compared to his far-reaching radiance. They say these things as if his magoi and influence and country and metal vessels are all that go into deciding a king. 

Sure, Sinbad has more magoi than anyone Judar has ever met, and that is really impressive because it’s by a lot. He’s really powerful, too. But Sinbad is kind of old, and Judar thinks he relies too much on his metal vessels and the people around him. When he was younger he was more interesting. He was fiery and driven and confident he could take on a magi. Though he was annoyed at the time, thinking back on it makes Judar a little nostalgic. Sinbad had the potential to be a great king but he squandered it, and now Judar is less impressed by the day.

Kouen has experience and is skilled in war, and when paired with Koumei he becomes pretty much unstoppable. Everything he does is done with intent and passion, and Judar appreciates that. He could fearlessly take on the world and win through sheer power alone. Whether that’s something Kouen will do or only wants to do, he will do it with precision. Kouen does as much and as little as needed in equal turn. Controlled.

Kouen has the heart of a beast, but he keeps it tightly caged. He doesn’t let himself thrive, Judar can tell. And he doesn’t seem to enjoy fighting as much as he used to. He won’t let Judar come with him on campaigns anymore. Judar cannot remember the last time he saw Kouen train in the courtyard or anywhere else. All he ever does when he’s around now is sit in studies and read. It’s beyond boring. 

Those two are supposed to be his top choices, according to the old men. They say that once Judar has officially chosen Sinbad, then all the things he doesn’t like about him can be worked out. But it’s not that simple and Judar doesn’t know why they think they can trick him. If something like that were true, then Hakuryuu would already have a metal vessel and Hakuryuu would be openly happy to see him whenever he comes around. 

Among his seven king candidates, he personally likes Hakuryuu best. Hakuryuu is cute and close to him in age, and though he brushes Judar off more than he should, he still talks with him like normal. Judar also thinks Hakuryuu is a very promising king and his liking him has nothing to do with it. Even if he did not find Hakuryuu’s sulkiness and not-as-frequent-as-they-used-to-be tears endearing, the latent potential in him would remain self-evident.

Judar watches Hakuryuu all the time—he watches all his candidates when able, but Hakuryuu is at the palace more than any of his siblings and is relatively easy to find. Judar usually watches him from up high, on roofs and from trees, occasionally from a magic carpet, because Hakuryuu gets flustered whenever he notices Judar. Embarrassed to be caught exposing his ability when he’s already convinced everyone he’s useless.

But Judar knows better. He would know better even if he did not watch him as much as he does. Once is enough.

When Hakuryuu swings his practice bo staff in a circle overhead and brings it to a firm stop before him, when he jabs it forward and pulls back with all the smoothness of a tide, when he shifts stance, foot going to his knee then back, holding most of his weight with ease, throughout all of this, Judar can see more than the bulk of Hakuryuu’s effort. These things are adding up to something neither of them can fathom but is surely incredible. The rukh around Hakuryuu come alive, spiraling with so much excitement Judar wonders if Hakuryuu can see for himself the light of his determination.

Judar can’t help crawling closer to make out Hakuryuu’s movements better. They’re fluid but also snap. It’s amazing. Water and lightning twisted together, not touching but forming something wondrous and admirable that makes him want to turn the spark into an explosion.

Watching Hakuryuu train makes his heart race with he doesn’t know what, anticipation maybe—at something, or desire—or hope. Something. Something he wants more of that he can’t get anywhere else.

Judar has never seen Koumei train or fight. For all he knows, Koumei never does, never has, and never will. 

Kouha lacks Hakuryuu’s finesse. When Judar watches him it gets boring quick. He attacks with quick brutality, which Judar should enjoy, and in fact there was something enchanting about those few times Judar witnessed him killing his instructors—allegedly on accident. Other than those times, however, Judar can’t recall any others. 

Kougyoku is good, too. She possesses the elegance Kouha lacks, and there’s something unique about it compared to Hakuryuu’s, a certain flow that embodies the water her djinn possesses. She’s skilled with a blade, but that’s all he has ever seen her with. And Judar only ever finds her practicing with Ka Koubun, so her movements get repetitive after a while. At this point he thinks he could run through the routine with her himself.

Hakuei is… he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her with a weapon of any kind. Though, obviously she must use a sword or something. All the children in this family know how to wield a sword. And she managed to conquer a dungeon with barely any support, so she must be good, right? Right.

Hakuryuu is always training. He trains his body in a whole variety of ways and meditates and studies and does things like balance on planks upside down and hold his breath for as long as possible. Every weapon he learns to use with both hands, and sometimes he trains blindfolded or with a hand tied behind his back. Honestly, Judar does not see the point of it all, but Hakuryuu’s dedication speaks volumes of the sort of king he will be.

Hakuryuu catches sight of him, and although he’s annoyed, he finishes the form he was going through without missing a beat before putting his bo away and not greeting Judar. Having already been caught, Judar decides to clap enthusiastically, which makes Hakuryuu stutter only slightly as he moves to exchange his staff for a sword.

Hakuryuu is just as graceful with a sword. His arm movements are incomprehensible to Judar. It’s like there isn’t bone inside to hinder his flourishes and slices. He switches hands mid-strike, changing direction, and then bringing the blade down with both hands before slicing upwards with the hand he started out with. 

Hakuryuu is amazing because he has somehow managed to trick everyone into thinking he’s not a threat. Like he’s doing all this stuff to prove he can one day be capable enough to be useful in the endeavors of someone else. He smiles at everyone and bows so politely and never says more than he needs to. Pretending he is not watching them with the eyes of a predator as he takes note of all their slip-ups and lies.

Judar waits for him to get through several forms before leaping from his perch to the ground and taking a spot under the tree closest to Hakuryuu. He sprawls out on the lush grass, stretching all his limbs as far as they can go, making an assortment of moaning sounds as he practically writhes on the ground in a show of finding comfort. Overall, he looks like someone trying very hard to get attention. 

But attention isn’t something Hakuryuu hands out freely. The stone-faced instructors he’s been given—found—Judar doesn’t know which—ignore him as well. After too long, he drags a knee up and props his head on his hand, bored and disappointed. In this situation, Hakuryuu will only give an obligatory response if Judar addresses him directly.

He watches Hakuryuu spar with one instructor, then two—both of whom are much larger than he is, with far more experience and longer, deadlier blades. They attack him like he is an intruder with no place here, like they mean to hurt him. There are several instances where Judar refuses to blink because Hakuryuu seems on the brink of lethal danger and he may need to intervene. But Hakuryuu always pulls through at the last second with a parry or an evasion that leaves his robe sliced, revealing skin but no blood.

Blood has been drawn in the past. And sometimes he sprains something or overextends or does something else that leaves him incapacitated for a few weeks, where he then focuses on other training like he hasn’t been injured.

Hakuryuu might be a masochist, which Judar finds fascinating but isn’t sure of the merit when possessed by a king. He can work around it, though, because apparently being a masochist means Hakuryuu will push forward forward forward until he falls and then push forward more, and Judar likes how just thinking that makes him feel—all bubbly giddy.

He likes how the rukh pulse with anticipation at the future they could have—if only Hakuryuu would agree to conquer a dungeon with him. Hakuryuu is so… shackled by limitations he’s created for himself for no real reason. A metal vessel is the key to everything. Hakuryuu always thinks he’s being disingenuous, but all he wants is to take him beyond the heights he’s reaching for as fast as possible. Unfortunately, Judar does not know how to say this convincingly.

“Hakuryuu!” he calls out, stretching out once more, though this time much less lasciviously. He draws out his name impatiently as Hakuryuu approaches, and once he’s close, Judar holds out his arms like he wants Hakuryuu to help him up.

Hakuryuu crosses his arms. “What is it, Lord Priest?”

“Hakuryuu,” he says with emphasis, like it will encourage him to use Judar’s name in return, “I’m hungry. Feed me.”

Hakuryuu’s face goes from irritated to blank to confused and back to irritated in the span of a second. He opens his mouth—and then says nothing, clearly changing his mind right as he breathed in. “I am in the middle of practice, Lord Priest.”

Judar scrunches up his nose at his title being repeated. “You’ve been practicing for hours already. You need a break, too.”

“Too?” Hakuryuu echoes dubiously, making Judar smile, and then his expression closes, hiding his fondness behind a wall Judar can’t surmount but could perhaps demolish if given enough time. He shifts and his gaze flickers briefly to his instructor. “If I agree, then you have to eat whatever I make without complaint.”

Since he was not expecting Hakuryuu to comply so readily, Judar hastily accepts and gets to his feet like Hakuryuu will retract the offer if there is any delay. Meanwhile, Hakuryuu puts away his sword and bows to his instructors, sharing a few words with them about his progress and confirming when they will meet again before returning to Judar.

Once Hakuryuu begins to lead them to his kitchen of choice, Judar carefully floats his body and circles his arms around Hakuryuu’s damp neck so he can be pulled to their destination like a persistent raincloud. When Judar pulls Hakuryuu’s hair free no reprimand is given. Nor does he receive one when he places his cheek on Hakuryuu’s head. The smell of sweat mixed with shampoo is pleasantly familiar and he settles into Hakuryuu’s accepting warmth.

Hakuryuu takes a long time to get them where they need to go. Every time he sees someone up ahead he turns the nearest corner and reroutes seamlessly. It is reassuring to know he would do the same thing even if Judar were not hanging off him.

“Hakuryuu, I think you should go into a dungeon soon. Think of how strong you’d become. You could be stronger than Kouen.”

“I can get stronger without that.”

Genuinely confused, Judar says, “You have to, though. Someone without a metal vessel can’t win against someone who does have one. That means all the work you’ve done becomes useless, so you have to.”

“I know.”

“Then you’ll go to a dungeon with me,” he says, giving the question half of the required intonation and missing his usual confidence utterly—because it sort of sounds like Hakuryuu is saying he’ll go to a dungeon with him, and he should be happy but is instead left dumbfound.

“No.”

And there’s the expected reaction. So he’s not exactly disappointed, but he does feel a little deflated. Even his body seems to have sunk in the air a bit. What is Hakuryuu planning to do? All the dungeons in Kou territory were raised by Judar, so even if he ventures out alone it is no different than Judar leading him there. By putting it off he’s only allowing himself to grow weaker.

“It’s not you,” Hakuryuu says.

Judar tilts his head, hoping it will give him a view of Hakuryuu’s expression but it doesn’t. Though, he doesn’t need to see Hakuryuu’s face to know what he means. Once, when he was much smaller, Sinbad said something similar to him. He can’t remember what it was in response to, or if maybe Sinbad was saying it to rile him up, but he said Judar was being taken advantage of, and that they could work together only if Judar left Kou and came to his side. And it didn’t make any sense, because Judar is a magi and he’s important and all those old men are serving him, not the other way around.

He remembers being angry, because Sinbad didn’t _listen_ , just like the old men and everyone else in the palace that aren’t the imperial family. And Judar doesn’t want a king who won’t listen to him, either.

“But they aren’t choosing you. I am.”

“There isn’t a difference.”

But there is and he says so. They don’t want Hakuryuu. They don’t want him telling them how great a king or king vessel Hakuryuu will be. Once he has a metal vessel they won’t be able to say anything.

Hakuryuu sighs. “Let’s not talk about this.”

Judar drifts his body to the front so they can be face to face. He touches the tips of their noses together. They don’t have to talk about it. Judar prefers it, sometimes, because if they don’t talk they don’t fight, and Judar likes it least when Hakuryuu ignores him.

He presses his mouth to Hakuryuu’s, with his mouth parted in an invitation Hakuryuu tentatively accepts. He tugs on Judar’s bottom lip with his teeth, and when Judar impatiently licks, he licks back, sweeping his tongue into Judar’s mouth and pulling him forward to deepen the kiss.

Judar puts his hands on Hakuryuu’s stomach and guides him to the nearby wall, where he then lets his hands caress Hakuryuu’s neck because that’s the only skin immediately available. His feet drop to the ground, and he now has to slouch to keep their faces level. He nudges Hakuryuu’s feet further apart and grabs his hip, continuing to kiss all the while.

His other hand slides down Hakuryuu’s abdomen. To his waistband to pull it forward and edge his robes up, revealing a stripe of soft, lovely, scarred skin. He steps closer, dips his fingers in, then further, twisting for the pads of his fingers to press into even softer skin. Hakuryuu makes a weak sound that makes Judar’s insides twitch with need—and then his stomach growls. His forehead goes to the wall as he leans against Hakuryuu, who pushes against his weight and mumbles his name but doesn’t squirm away.

“I’m so hungry, Hakuryuu, I’m starving.” 

“I already said I’d make you something,” Hakuryuu says while continuing to not pull away.

“But what will you make me?”

“I don’t know. I need to see what’s there.”

As Judar tries to think of something he wants Hakuryuu to cook him, the rukh interrupt with a barrage of flickering. He looks away, dazed, and follows after their trailing glow only to see nothing at the end of the corridor. He frowns and takes a step forward, and then another.

“Judar?” Hakuryuu looks down the corridor as well.

Judar turns back to him with a smile. “Hakuryuu. It’s nothing,” he continues when Hakuryuu just looks at him. Then the rukh cry out again and his eyes snap back to the end of the hallway and Hakuryuu follows the motion.

But then there it is, and he scowls. A veiled magician turned the corner and is now making right for them. The rukh whir incessantly in his ears and make his skin crawl so much he shudders and rolls his neck and shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. His hand reaches for Hakuryuu, but then he stuffs it behind his back.

“Magi, you are needed.”

Judar scowls and slouches in Hakuryuu’s direction. “For what? Whatever it is can wait. I’m busy.”

“No, Magi.”

“Hakuryuu is about to feed me.”

“We will provide food. Now, come.”

Judar pouts. “Hakuryuu’s food is better. And he never cooks for me.” He looks at Hakuryuu, either for assistance or just because, and finds him staring blankly down the other end of the hall. Hakuryuu especially never pays attention to him when the old men bother him. It makes him a little resentful towards… something.

The rukh are loud, so loud and getting louder—like they’re drilling opposite sides of his skull and burrowing inside. They screech, refusing to say a word. He runs his hand through his hair, tugs. “What?” he demands without meaning to, and it makes Hakuryuu glance at him with… concern maybe?

“Magi” is said at the same time as “Judar,” and he doesn’t like the way the two overlap, but the discord pierces through the rukh’s shrill, silencing them. 

“Judar,” Hakuryuu repeats, firm yet soft. “I’ll make you something later.”

The air is still. The rukh undulate as they give threatening chirps. They distract him from responding to Hakuryuu in a timely manner, and from thinking of how to respond. When he finally gets his bearings all that comes out is, “Huh?” 

By then, Hakuryuu is already walking away.

Judar stumbles forward to grab his hand. “Wait. What?”

Hakuryuu’s hand briefly rests on top of his. His fingers drag on Judar’s when he pulls away, curling like they’re about to hold on instead of let go. “We’ll talk later.”

Judar wants to follow him as he walks off but his feet don’t move.

“Magi, you are needed.”

He’s always needed for something.

The magician walks away, back where he came from. Judar follows without thinking, but keeps looking back to see Hakuryuu’s shrinking figure.


End file.
